Fire and Ice
by Surreal Reality
Summary: There are things existing in the world that few know about. Things that can't be explained. Impossible things. Remarkable things. Dangerous things. - Jori. Rated M for blood, violence, etc.
1. Shadows

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Victorious.**

_Chapter I: Shadows_

_Tori_

**I've** never believed in the supernatural.

The whole concept used to seem ridiculous to me. Maybe it's that I've always stuck to practicality: logic, facts, scientific evidence. When it comes to things that can't be explained, what "proof" do you really have? To add to that, the exaggerated, ludicrous ways it's portrayed on television and in movies these days isn't exactly convincing.

Take vampires, for example. Glittering in the sunlight? Really? Plus, anyone can get their teeth filed to fangs and drink blood — as repulsive and bizarre that would be.

As for werewolves, it's impossible for a person to change into an animal. That's just common sense.

Then, there are ghosts. I mean, I never witnessed the apparition of my hamster floating up from his grave in the backyard. Nibbles is dead, and dead means... well, dead. Not alive. And once you're dead, you're gone. You don't exist anymore. Applying that knowledge, how can something that's _dead_ possibly cause any harm?

I remember asking the same thing to my sister Trina as we watched The Grudge while our parents were out for dinner one night; I was twelve at the time. They'd explicitly told us _No scary movies,_ but, as always, Trina was quick to disobey them, blatantly and with zest. And I didn't require much convincing — in other words, she said I was a wuss if I wouldn't watch it with her.

My question was muffled by the sofa pillow I was peering over to take occasional glances at the movie; although I did have my doubts, that didn't make watching the movie any less frightening. Trina just shrugged, shoving another handful of buttery popcorn it into her mouth, her eyes locked intently on the TV screen. "They were never really dead in the first place, I guess." Her hand returned to the bowl, and she frowned when she realized it was empty. She got up and headed to the kitchen, emptiness settling in where she'd once been sitting. I hid my eyes behind the pillow, suddenly more terrified than I'd ever been, waiting for her to come back. Minutes passed. Then, hands grabbed my shoulders firmly from behind, making me go rigid with shock. I tightened my grip on the pillow, eyes stretched wide, completely immobilized from fear. Finally, I found the strength to look back, only to find Trina standing over me with an amused grin on her face. "I scared you good, huh?" Her eyes glittered mischievously through the darkness.

Still clutching that pillow for dear life, I shook my head vigorously, determined to prove my bravery. But I knew my response was a flat-out lie. Of course I was scared. Hell, I'd almost peed myself.

And that's how my curiosity took off, I guess. Her words became a lingering idea, a persistent thought I simply couldn't let go of. I mulled over it countless times since then, wondering if she was right. If somehow, there is something after death. If there really are things out there, things that no one knows about, that can't be explained. Impossible things. Remarkable things. Dangerous things.

Eventually, I let go of the idea of anything existing out of the ordinary. I began focusing on the greater aspects of my life — school, friends, family. Little did I know, I'd only be reminded of it later on.

...

A noise jolts me from sleep, and my eyes open to the soft light of my lamp. I roll over on my bed, looking through sleep-filled eyes in the direction of my door. I briefly debate going to check it out, but my tired body urges me to stay in bed. It was probably nothing, anyway. This house is pretty old; it always makes weird noises at night.

I hear it again — this time, I can tell it definitely isn't the house. I force myself out of bed, heading out to the hallway, the cold floor chilling my feet. I look down both ends of the hall. It's nothing, just as I thought. I knew I should've stayed in bed. With a small sigh, I turn to go back in my room, but the door... it's closed — and locked, which I find out soon after. A cold front blows down the hall, buffeting my hair and making me shiver. What the... What is going on?

I shake the knob harder, anxiety creeping up on me. The wind grows stronger, pulling at the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing, and I almost swear I can hear voices mixed in with the air blowing into my ears. There _are_ voices; a crowd of whispers, all trying to talk over each other. I cover my ears, trying to shut it out, but it only gets louder, and they're screaming, these shrill, and then I realize... that the voices... they're _inside of my head._ I feel the chilling touch of multiple pairs of hands slithering over me, like they're... I don't know, searching for something? They cover my body, and I feel them moving up, up to my neck, their grip firm. I try to pull them off, but when my hands reach my neck, there's nothing. I'm clawing at nothing, but I can still feel them on me, and they're getting tighter and I can't... I can't breathe. I can't hear anything over the wind. My back presses against the wall for support, hands trying desperately to fight of my invisible attacker. My vision starts to blur around the edges, and I slide down to the floor.

This isn't real. This _can't_ be real. It's a dream, it has to be a dream. A nightmare. I need to wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

_Wake up!_

My eyes flash open and I gasp. Suddenly, everything's gone, as if it was never there in the first place — and it wasn't. I can breathe. No one's choking me. Moonlight beams in through a gap between my curtains. Sitting up, I kick off my blanket. My breath comes in huge gulps, and I lay a hand on my chest, the frantic beat of my heart hard against my palm. It was a dream. Just a dream.

It's not the dream that had me so scared; I'm used to having nightmares like that. I've had worse, actually. It's something I've been plagued with for the past several months. The doctor said it could be a result of stress or traumatic experience, even though I'm doubtful about that. What scares me is that this time, it was different. I've never had one so vivid before, so intense. So... real. It's disconcerting, because I was just getting to the point where I wasn't scared anymore, where I could tell it was all fake, I knew I was dreaming. This time, I woke up into a nightmare.

Something moves in the corner of my vision, and I turn to look, my breath catching in my throat. There's a dark, looming figure, vaguely humanoid, like the shadow of a person — but there's no one casting it. And it's standing there, with two black, soulless pits in its face where eyes should be. And it's staring straight at me.

This... this isn't real. I shut my eyes tight. It's_ not real_.

When I open them again, it's gone.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, it's me, bringing yet another idea out into the open. I'm trying something completely different than what I'm used to, so bear with me. The title's from the poem by Robert Frost**

**Reviews would be highly appreciated. Xx**


	2. Disquieted

_Chapter II: Disquieted_

_Jade_

**"Give** me the phone."

I lift my eyes from the screen of my Pear Phone and I'm met with Ms. Aston's beady-eyed glare. She stands in front of my table, one palm outstretched, tapping a pointed heel impatiently. I glance at her open hand and quickly click the screen off. "I wasn't—"

"Phone. Now," she adds firmly.

"But I was just checking the time!"

She places both hands on the table and leans forward so we're face-to-face. "Miss West," she growls. Her breath smells like rat urine. "There is a strict no phone policy in my class. If you do not hand that device to me right this second, there will be _serious consequences._" Saliva splatters my face on her last two words; with a disgusted grimace, I wipe it away. Deciding it's not worth any more trouble, I sigh before obliging reluctantly.

She takes my phone with a smile that looks like it should belong to a shark. "You may have this back at the end of class." As she walks away, I can feel the eyes of a few other students on me. I glare at them and they quickly look away. People need to learn to mind their own business.

I hunch over the lab table and put my head in my hands, my eyes wandering across its black surface. There are various etchings in it: random doodles and scribbles, _K+M_ encircled by a heart, and _fuck school_ in ragged letters. Can't say I disagree with the last one. Don't get me wrong, I like school for the most part, but I really, really hate this class. Chemistry is somewhat interesting I guess, but the teacher is awful and the class is filled with juniors, sophomores, and a few overachieving freshmen. I'm a senior, I shouldn't even be here, but I didn't get credit when I took it last year, mainly because I never bothered to do the work. On top of that, I missed nearly an entire semester of school after... after what happened. Now, I'm just barely passing, my grade constantly seesawing between an F and a low D, and I swear Aston _wants_ me to fail.

A voice cuts into my thoughts. "Jade." I ignore them, pretending to listen to the teacher droning on and on about chemical reactions.

"Jade," the person repeats, a little louder this time. I glance to the side and recognize Valerie, a junior I've barely bothered talking to unless it's to borrow a sheet of paper.

Angling myself to face her, I answer irritably, "What?"

"Excuse me." I jump a little at Ms. Aston's harsh voice, turning forward again.

"Pay attention."

"I am." I lean back and slump down in my seat.

I flinch when the sharp point of a pencil jabs my arm. I spin in my chair to face her, glaring. "If you don't cut it out I'm going to kick your—"

"Alright, Miss West." Ms. Aston adjusts her glasses on her pointy nose. I wonder if she knows that I have a first name. "Since you seem to know enough that you don't need to pay attention to the lesson, how about you tell us the answer?" She motions with one hand towards the problem on the board, white chalk lines of her nearly illegible handwriting. There's numbers and letters and they're all in an order that makes no fucking sense.

I mumble under my breath.

"Speak up," she orders.

"I said I don't know the answer."

She crosses her arms with a cruel smile, obviously she feeling smug about making me look dumb in front of the class. Not that any of them really listen to what she says, anyway. "Perhaps you would, if you and Miss Archer were paying attention instead of lollygagging." Lollygagging? Who says that? "One more word from either of you"—she wiggles her extended index finger between the two of us—"and that's detention." She goes back to writing.

"Word," I mutter, and that earns a snicker from Valerie and cackles from the guys at the table behind me.

She turns. "Pardon?"

My cheeks force themselves upwards in a fake smile. "Nothing."

...

The rest of my classes go by in a blur, and lunch comes sooner than I expect.

I impale another defenseless lettuce leaf with my fork, putting it into my mouth. The salad is flavorless and wilting at the edges and I don't like this flavor of dressing, but it's still a slightly better alternative to the other crap they serve here. Cat rambles aimlessly beside me about something her brother did. Andre comes over, his braids pulled up in a ponytail at the back of his head, a gross-looking sandwich — undoubtedly from the Grub Truck — in a plastic container in one hand. He greets us with that familiar smile on his face, and I give him a nod of acknowledgement. He takes a seat across from me next to Robbie, who's been cleaning his dumb puppet's ear with a Q-tip. The sun glares its harsh rays above us, and for once, I regret wearing black.

I groan inwardly as Tori walks over to the table, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans that look at least two sizes too tight. With the dark circles hanging under her eyes, messy hair, and annoyed look on her makeup-less face, she looks like she just rose from the dead. "I know, I know, I look tired and awful," she begins. "I got barely any sleep last night." She drops her bag with a loud sigh, plopping down between Andre and Robbie. "I went to bed at ten, woke up at twelve and couldn't go back to sleep after that."

I roll my eyes. As always, she's announcing her problems to the world while everyone gives her their undivided attention as if they genuinely give a crap — and they probably do. It's ridiculous, and she acts so oblivious to it all, like people caring about every detail of her life is completely normal. She's just like Trina, the only difference being she's good at hiding it; she's discreetly and unmindfully self-centered. She just assumes she's liked by everyone, that people always think the best of her, and what pisses me off the most is that it's not untrue. She has pretty much everyone wrapped around her finger. When she's around, they all look at her like she's the most interesting thing they've ever seen in their lives. When she talks, everyone shuts up and listens — even Cat, who seems to never be able to stop talking. They practically worship her. I wouldn't be surprised if they started calling her "princess" and eating from the palm of her hand.

Although I'll never say it out loud, I've always felt threatened by her. I mean, she's pretty, she can sing and dance, she's a decent actress. She's smart and popular, and I'm sure that if you cut her open you'd find a heart of pure gold. That's more than you could say for me. Plus, the girl has spunk. She's the only person I've ever met who's had the balls to stand up to me. Namely, two years ago during her first week at Hollywood Arts, when she beat me at what I do best and kissed my boyfriend in front of the entire class. That'd been a major blow to my ego, and even though the incident has long been forgotten, she'd made it a point that she's not one to get pushed around.

I set the fork down, propping an elbow up on the table and looking at her. "Well, you know what they say."

Tori frowns. "What?"

I rest my chin in my hand. "If you wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep..."

She leans forward, eyes wide and intent.

"...you're being watched."

I can't hold back a smirk of satisfaction at the uneasiness that appears on her expression. I absolutely love getting under her skin. She's so gullible I don't know whether I should laugh or feel bad for her. And the way she reacts to things is just too hilarious — right now, she's squirming in her seat, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands and looking terrified as she stammers, "R-really?"

Cat slaps my arm lightly, a look of disapproval on her face. "Jade, you're scaring her!" Her expression gives away that she's getting frightened as well.

I stand up, grabbing my lunch tray. "Whatever." After discarding my uneaten salad, I sling my bag over one shoulder. The smirk is still on my face as I meet Tori's fearful eyes. "I'm out."

I follow the sidewalk that leads out front to the parking lot. God, why are people so stupid? I hadn't even intended for Tori to take it that seriously, even though her response had been much more comical than I'd expected. As for Cat, she's far too dumb for her own good. Lucky for me, I have free period after lunch, so I can leave — and hopefully find something at least remotely edible to eat — provided I come back before seventh starts.

I collide into someone as I head around the corner of the school building, sending my bag flying off my arm. "Would you watch where you're going?" I snap, quickly picking it up.

Valerie picks up her phone from the pavement, then fixes her dark brown hair which had gotten messed up from our hit. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and..." When she meets my eyes, she looks somewhat relieved. "Oh, Jade. It's you."

"Yeah. And I'm trying to leave, so would you move out the way?" I push past her and continue on my way.

"Wait!" I stop, hearing her footsteps behind me. "I wanted to ask you something earlier."

I turn to face her. "And that couldn't have waited until _after_ class?"

"Well, that's the only class we have together, and I don't usually see you during lunch, so I just thought..."

Great, she's a rambler. I tilt my head to the side as she blabbers on and on until I decide it's time to cut her off. "What did you want to ask me?"

She puts a hand on her forehead. "Right, right. So, I'm having a party next Saturday at my place."

"And I care because...?"

"Can you come?"

I arch an eyebrow at her. "Why?"

"I want all my friends to be there." She takes out a sheet of notebook paper with writing on it. After handing it to me, she looks down to the ground awkwardly and kicks at the gravel. "And, well, we're friends, right?"

I narrow my eyes, observing her before shifting my focus to the paper in my hand, which I guess to be her address and phone number. She thinks we're friends — which is strange, considering I can't recall a single time I've had a proper conversation with her other than right now. She's tried speaking to me before on several occasions, and each time I'd either completely ignored her or responded with an insult. That isn't exactly "friendly" behavior. Plus, there's a possibility she's only inviting me because having a senior at her party would up her reputation by quite a bit. Then again, she's already pretty popular. Why would she want _me_ there, especially when she probably has tons of other senior friends already that would willingly come?

My eyes once again scan over her curvy handwriting. Seems legitimate enough. Finally, I fold the paper and shove it into my pocket with a nod. "I'll see if I can make it."

...

An hour after school ends, I'm knocking on the door of Beck's RV. I cross my arms, waiting for him to answer. No more than a minute later, Beck pulls open the door, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and he's dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. The moment he sees me, a smile appears on his face. He steps back to let me in. "Hey, Jade."

"Hey," I respond, entering. Closing the door behind us, he sits down on his hide-a-bed sofa and I lower myself onto his lap. I lay my head against his chest, shutting my eyes and letting myself relax as he wraps his warm arms around me. I let out a content sigh before I ask, "Feeling any better?"

I feel him nod. "I think I'll be able to come back on Monday." He's been home sick with a cold this week, and I've been coming to visit each day after school to check up on him. It's obvious that he's getting well, though, just from the fact that his sneezing and hacking has been reduced to occasional sniffles and coughs. "What about you? Are you doing okay?"

I half smile at his concern. He's always cared so much about me, even when he's the one that has something going on. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know, since I haven't been able to be with you all the time, and..." He chews on his lower lip, dark eyebrows digging down. "You haven't...?"

My smile drops, my stomach twisting a little. "No... no, I haven't."

"Because you can always come to me if—"

I pick at the seam of my shirt. "I know." There's a long, uncomfortable silence between us after that.

"I'm sorry," he says at last. "I know you don't like talking about it."

I shrug. "It's fine."

He plants a kiss on top of my head. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

I lift my head to see his expression. "Why?"

He breathes in and out. "I don't know. I just hate not being there to protect you."

"Protect me?" I repeat, my words in tune with my thoughts. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I know," he murmurs, "but there are dangerous people out there, Jade, and they'd do anything to..." He trails off, eyes drifting to the floor, and his arms tighten around me slightly. "Actually... you're right. You can take care of yourself. I shouldn't worry." His last sentence is hushed, as if he's talking more to himself than to me. I feel vaguely confused but don't probe any further, instead grabbing the remote and turning on the television. Maybe I should overlook it. That's just the way he is, always worried about my wellbeing.

Yet the last thing he said sticks in my mind: that there are dangerous people out there, and that they'll do anything. I don't know exactly who _they_ are, but from the way Beck acted... there's clearly more to this. He knows better than anyone that I don't need protecting. If he thinks I can't protect myself from... whoever he's talking about, then this is more serious than he's letting on — whatever "this" is. It's Beck; he'd never lie to me, but I can tell that he's leaving something out, that he's not telling me everything. He's hiding something.

But what? And, more importantly, _why?_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for how long it took me to update; I've been pretty busy lately, but I've got everything sorted out now for the most part, so there shouldn't be any more delays unless something else comes up.**

**The story's going to remain relatively normal throughout the beginning before I bring in the supernatural stuff. I'm going to pace myself and let it develop a bit first, so don't expect anything too wild... yet.**


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